When I’m not writing I have hobbies. One of them is I’m a crafter. That’s right I embroider, knit and crochet, just to name a few. Some better than others, but I figure it’s the effort that counts. Still, me being me, I can’t just stick to the regular stuff, I have to come up with something...different.
I'm a writer. I plot.
Such as when I decided to replace the buttons on a sweater.
|Behold! The Store Bought Sweater. But What's With Those Buttons?|
Yes, this was one of those "What Was I Thinking?" purchases. Not that the sweater is bad, even the buttons aren't that bad.
|See they're pretty. Kind of.|
The picture doesn't do it justice. The glass buttons are so...shiny, it hurts.
In my defense, I needed a black sweater, and had trouble finding one I liked. This one fit, looked pretty good, and was on sale. So in desperation I bought it. Then I wore it once or twice, hated it and stuck it my closet. Where it sat. For years. Especially after I bought another black sweater that I actually liked.
Anyway comes the day that I need another black sweater. I find this one hiding in the back of my closet. It's then that I make a discovery. Once I get past the buttons, I actually like the sweater. But those buttons! I still hate them on this sweater. However, this time, I think why don't I replace the buttons? It'll save me the aggravation of trying to find another sweater. Fully realizing that I was venturing into a whole new territory of aggravation.
You see, I lived with a woman (my mother) who knew how to sew and actually enjoyed it. So I knew from her that finding the right buttons, in the right amount, that you can afford (these are buttons after all) takes dedication! Mom would take hours, I'm not exaggerating, looking over buttons before she found the magic button combination that existed in her mind's eye.
Even knowing that I didn't think it would be that hard because I knew what I wanted. The plan was to replace the glass buttons with pearl style buttons. Simple, classic, and works for day or night wear. Easy, right? Wrong!
The way buttons work is, depending on the size of the button, they'll come in different amounts on a card. In this case the size I needed came in the amount of three buttons per card. Two cards, six buttons. Problem. This sweater has seven buttons!
You've got to wonder what sadist thinks this stuff up. I mean clothes are these people's business. You can't tell me they don't know you are never going to be able to find the right amount of button! So why do they do it? To make you buy more buttons or a new sweater.
Button sadists. They make for good antagonists!
So this was my dilemma (the drama builds). Do I buy an extra card which leaves me with two extra buttons of the buttons I liked (which I probably never use again) or buy a new sweater?
Or do I do the Cindy thing and come up with a plot twist?
Plot twist it is!
Recently I've gotten back to wearing brooches and pins. So I thought, why don't I do the six buttons in black to tone them down, and buy a fancier button to imitate a brooch for that seventh button?
Take that button sadists!
I know, it's genius! Now I just had to make it work. And you thought mysteries were hard.
The black buttons weren't a problem, they were the same size as the original buttons, so it was a simple replacement. As long as you know how to sew on a button. Which I do. I must have been paying attention when Mom showed me. Go figure.
The genius part comes with the top button (shown below). It mimics a brooch, but weighs less so it lays better. Still it's about twice the size of the original button, so it wasn't going to fit through the button hole. What do I do?
I sewed a snap between the top flaps of the sweater so it will stay closed. Then I sew the brooch button at the top to cover the top button hole to give the illusion it is fasten through the button hole! The button sadist are defeated! A Happy Ending!
|New and Improved Sweater!|
I don't know if this is an original idea. I'm sure someone else has thought of it sometime. But this is how a writer thinks. We plot out everything.